


Between the Sheets

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Episode Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-31
Updated: 2008-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Where do Brian and Justin resolve their issues? Where else but between the sheets?





	Between the Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Written by Chering, beta'd by FanSee. Lyrics are from Look After You by The Fray

* * *

******There now, steady love.  
So few come and don’t go.******  
  
” _You were right, the reason I took you in is because you took a bat to the head. But that’s not the reason I want you to stay…but don’t get the idea we’re some married couple, because we’re not. We’re not like fuckin' straight people. We’re not like your parents, and we're not a pair of dykes marching down the aisle in matching Vera Wangs. We’re queers and if we’re together it’s because we wanna be and not because there’s locks on our doors. So if I’m out late, assume I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing. I’m fucking. And, when I come home, I’ll also be doing exactly what I want to do. Coming home to you.”  
  
“Okay, I want some things too. You can fuck whoever you want, as long as it’s not twice. Same for me. And no names or numbers exchanged. And no matter where you are or what you’re doing, you always come home…by two.”  
  
“Four.”  
  
“Three. One more thing. You don’t kiss anyone else on the mouth, but me.”  
_  
Brian leaned in and demonstrated his acceptance of Justin’s latest demand. He knew he could do far worse than kiss only these lips from now on. They stayed on the dance floor testing out that rule for the remainder of the song, but it soon became evident that Babylon was not the place they wanted or needed to be.   
  
“Let’s go home,” Brian said, more as a demand than a suggestion and Justin was not about to protest. Brian had accepted his conditions and had actually told him he wanted him back. Not out of a sense of responsibility or pity, but simply because he desired him. Justin knew this step was huge. Even though he wasn’t going to be the only person who would grace Brian’s bed, he would be the only one sticking around long enough to change the sheets.  
  
Brian led him off the dance floor and out into the cold, Pittsburgh night. He knew sex with Justin was always good. But sex with Justin after an extended absence was amazing. Brian intended to provide him with plenty of foreplay for this reunification ritual…really torturous foreplay, the kind that would have Justin begging…pleading to be fucked. But when Justin preceded him into the loft and deftly shed every article of clothing he had on by the time he hit the bedroom steps, Brian’s resolve crumbled. What the fuck was this kid doing to him?   
  
He secured the loft door for the night and went to the refrigerator. For days now, he couldn’t seem to get Debbie’s words out of his head. “That little persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire. And that’s what’s happened, huh? Admit the truth. You love him, don’t ya?”   
  
Brian hadn’t been expecting that and he wasn’t ready with an answer. Had Justin gotten in under the wire? Yeah…maybe. Was it nice to have him here? Sure. It was nice to come home to something other than take-out every night. Nice to wake up to someone he didn’t want to kick out of his bed. Nice to watch the display Justin had just put on no matter how many times he had seen it before. Did he love him? Fuck, no. He cared about him; he was certain of that. But love? That’s the shit straight people tell themselves they’re in when they want to get laid, right? He never needed love for that.   
  
Grabbing a couple bottles of water, Brian shut the refrigerator door and made his way through the darkened loft into the bedroom.   
  
_Jesus…look at him.  
_  
Justin’s alabaster flesh against his navy sheets was a sight to behold, causing Brian’s dick to strain uncomfortably within his jeans. He was lying on his back, watching Brian’s every move as he grabbed for the lube on the nightstand and tossed it to him.   
  
“Get yourself ready while I watch.”   
  
Brian removed his shirt and fumbled with his belt buckle, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight on his mattress. Justin took the lube and squeezed a generous amount on two of his fingers. Letting his bent knees fall apart, he closed his eyes and trailed his hand first to his cock. He stroked himself lightly until it was erect and glistening. With his other hand he captured some of the excess lube dripping down his balls and began massaging his hole. His mouth was slightly open now with just a hint of pink tongue escaping. Rolling his head in Brian’s direction, Justin opened his eyes to find him naked and hard.   
  
Justin smiled, “Are you ready to fuck me?”  
  
Brian crawled between his outstretched legs, placed a hand on each of Justin’s knees and gently pushed them up while Justin moved his hand away from his hole to offer himself to Brian.  
  
“No, don’t stop. Not yet.” He had intended for that to come out as an order but it sounded like he was the one doing the begging. This was the wonder that was Justin; wanton, lustful, and completely unashamed to perform for him. He didn’t do this for others, and there was a heady power in knowing that. It was something new to him…this feeling, but it wasn’t love.   
  
Brian watched as Justin inserted one, then two fingers inside himself. When Justin moaned, Brian echoed him. Justin removed his fingers, and Brian captured them in his mouth and tasted the distinct earthiness that he craved. When Justin positioned himself, Brian slid inside and when Justin came, his contractions grabbed Brian and pulled him somewhere unfamiliar and heavenly. A place where his cravings never seemed to be sated. Uncharted territory for Brian, where his hunger didn’t end with his orgasm. Brian may have been on top but Justin was definitely in the lead.   
  
Sliding to Justin’s side, Brian stripped himself of the condom and disposed of it. Justin burrowed under the covers as Brian turned back and spooned him. It had become routine, getting into this position, wrapping himself around Justin and falling asleep. Something so irrelevant, and entirely unfamiliar…until now.   
  
They were silent for a few moments, and then, as usual, Justin spoke up.  
  
“Do you think it’s gonna work this time?”  
  
“What?”   
  
“Me staying here.”  
  
“That’s entirely up to you. I meant what I said. There’s still going to be other guys so this isn’t going to be a monogamous relationship. Can you live with that?”  
  
“Is this any kind of relationship?”  
  
“Yeah.” Brian chuckled and nuzzled Justin’s neck, “I’d say it’s a polygamous one. That’s one of the nice things about being queer. We don’t have to follow any of their rules.”  
  
Justin pulled away slightly and Brian felt the tension rising.  
  
“Hey, I know what you think you want, but you’re not ready for that.”  
  
Justin turned so they were facing each other and asked, “How can you be so sure?”  
  
“Justin, you’re nineteen. You forget, I’ve been there.”  
  
Justin pondered this for a few seconds before looking back into Brian’s eyes and asking softly, “Was there someone for you back then?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess you could say that…one of my college professors. I was ready to move in but he’d have none of it. He knew better.”  
  
“Did you love him?”  
  
“No, but I thought I did at the time.”   
  
“What did you do?”  
  
“Fucked him. Got fucked by him…and life went on.”  
  
“What about after that?”  
  
“What about it?”  
  
“Was there anyone else? You know, before me, that you lived with?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“That you loved?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“So I’m the first?”  
  
He was snickering now, the little shit.  
  
“Shut up and go to sleep.”  
  
 ** **Will you, won’t you,  
Be the one I always know.****  
  
 _“Meet the Concerned Citizens for the Truth.”  
  
“You.”  
  
“Who the hell else was going to pay for it? I maxed out five gold cards.”  
  
“Those concerned citizens really are lunatics.”  
  
“I think I’m experiencing possession withdrawal, I need to lie down.”  
  
“Good thing you didn’t sell your bed.”  
  
“I’d rather sell a kidney.”  
_  
“I can’t believe you did this. It’s so…”  
  
“Noble?”  
  
“Out of character…what made you do it?”  
  
“Some asshole told me that if you believe in something strongly enough you have to be willing to sacrifice everything.”  
  
Justin looked Brian in the eyes for a few seconds, then blinked and considered the implications of that statement. Brian had certainly picked a fine time to start listening to him. Leaning in, Justin kissed him. Then, making himself more comfortable he repeated his action again, and again.   
  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Justin whispered as he pulled out of a kiss. “It wasn’t out of character. You’re always the safety net around here; it’s just that you usually don’t perform on such a colossal scale.”   
  
Brian heaved a loud sigh and stared up at the ceiling. “At least I still have one thing to be thankful for.”  
  
Hearing that, Justin’s heart skipped a beat and he felt a fluttering in his stomach. Yes, Brian did still have something to be thankful for. It was him, and Justin wondered silently if now was the time Brian would recognize it.  
  
“What’s that?” Justin asked sheepishly.  
  
“I made the mortgage payment just before I lost my mind. I’ll still have a roof over my head for the next 28 days.”   
  
Brian’s words not only calmed the butterflies Justin was feeling, they caught them and plucked their wings off as well. In an effort to hide his disappointment, he told himself that Brian didn’t share his feelings even on the best of days. Considering the personal crisis the man was going through right now, he shouldn’t expect to get any declarations of undying love.   
  
With Brian still staring blankly above, Justin snuggled into the crook of his arm and laid his head on his chest. Finances were another thing they seldom discussed. Money was a commodity Brian always seemed to have plenty of …but, with no job in sight, a hundred thousand dollars was out of his league.   
  
It bothered Justin that this man he loved continued to be such a mystery to him. Even though Brian shared his body in ways he withheld from everyone else, so many other parts of his life remained closely guarded. Hell, Michael still knew and saw more of them than Justin did. A fact that was made perfectly clear every chance Brian’s ‘best friend’ got.   
  
Justin reasoned it was time for things to change. He was the one who had been repeatedly invited into this bed. He was the one Brian had taken in over and over again and never asked for anything in return. Even if his money wouldn’t make a dent in the credit card debt, the least he felt he could do was cover another month’s payment on the roof that routinely covered his head.  
  
“So, how much is your mortgage payment, anyway?” Justin asked, matter-of-factly.  
  
“About twenty five hundred.”  
  
Ouch…but do-able, Justin thought.  
  
“And the credit cards? When will they come due?”  
  
“A week or so after that.”  
  
“But you can pay them off a little at a time, right?”  
  
“Oh, I’m sure the credit card companies would be happy to support me in my endeavor to pay them 13 or 14 percent interest each month.”  
  
“Why did you ever acquire FIVE of them in the first place?”  
  
“It helps me with the accounting.”  
  
“Accounting?”  
  
“You know, there’s the clothing card…the personal entertainment card…the business expense card…”  
  
“Holy fuck, Brian!” Justin struggled to his elbow. “You need a separate gold card just for your clothes?”  
  
“Jesus, what is this, the inquisition? Do you want to see last year’s tax returns too? And why the fuck am I explaining my finances to an art school dropout?”  
  
That hurt and Brian saw it in Justin’s face the second the words foolishly escaped his lips.   
  
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Brian pulled Justin back onto his chest, “I shouldn’t have said that.”  
  
“It’s OK,” Justin replied fingering a button on Brian’s shirt. The first three were already open and tiny silky hairs were poking out, tickling Justin’s nose. “I guess we’re even. I’m just trying to think of a way to help.”  
  
Brian shook his head and smirked. Pushing down on Justin’s shoulders he muttered, “I can think of one thing you could do to provide some immediate relief.”  
  
Justin giggled a bit as he slid down to undo the zipper on Brian’s jeans. It came as a relief to him that even in Brian’s current state of emotional distress, he still wanted this. Still wanted him.   
  
“But take that damn coat off first,” Brian commanded, “before I get rug burn on my dick.”  
  
Suddenly aware that he was far too overdressed, Justin shrugged off his wool jacket and settled back between those slender, inviting legs. Brian’s cock was semi-hard as Justin tugged at his jeans, releasing it fully from its confines.   
  
He’d start with Brian’s balls today. Kissing and nipping at them first while keeping an eye on his ever-enlarging penis. Besides, that way he could continue the conversation a few minutes longer.  
  
“Brian, I’d like you to stop thinking of me as the guy you fuck more than once,” Justin made a quick circle with his tongue around Brian’s right testicle, “and start thinking of me as…” He paused just long enough to do the same to the left and give Brian the chance to ask, “What?”  
  
Popping his head up so Brian could see him over his now erect dick, Justin responded in a most businesslike manner, “Your partner.”  
  
Scooting up onto his elbows Brian was now in a half sitting, half reclining position. “Christ, Justin, do you really need a label to define us?”  
  
Justin proceeded to slowly lick up Brian’s cock and plant a kiss on its tip before replying, “Yes, apparently I do.” He immediately resumed his task, licking his lips and then tucking them over his teeth before sliding down his length.   
  
Justin distinctly heard a sigh, and it hadn’t come from him. Brian’s dick was smooth and hot against his tongue. He drew his head up and then sucked him back in once again. This time on the upstroke Justin grabbed Brian’s dick with his right hand and continued to pump it as it fell from his mouth.   
  
“Why, when it comes to your personal life, does that have to be such a foreign concept to you?”   
  
“Justin…”   
  
Okay, so maybe this isn’t fair. But how many times has Brian played dirty?  
  
He was quite sure he had Brian at his mercy when he continued, “I already am and you know it. It doesn’t mean the rules change. You know, those ‘rules’ that I’m so good at breaking? You can still fuck around but I need you to open up more than your legs to me.”  
  
Justin’s mouth replaced his hand before Brian could respond. His hips were moving now and Justin let him take control, fucking his face and muttering obscenities as he snaked his spit soaked fingers first under and then into Brian.  
  
He knew the rhythm and feel of this man better than anyone. He could interpret the secret language of Brian’s grunts and sighs and moans. He understood that fingers knotted in his hair directed him to take Brian in completely while a hand to his neck with Brian’s thumb caressing the soft spot directly in front of his ear meant he wanted his dick caressed and teased. Justin knew these things from experience and he was certain, when Brian came, that he could have demanded the moon and this generous man would have done his best to deliver it.   
  
Spasms wracked Brian’s body and Justin greedily swallowed him as his orgasm shuddered to its conclusion. Justin curled into the arm Brian extended toward him and laid his head on his shoulder.  
  
“This is how it’s going to be.” Justin stated matter-of-factly. “I’m going out today and stocking those cupboards. Then I’m writing out a check for next month’s house payment.”  
  
“Justin, no.” Brian insisted.  
  
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I have the resources to do this because of you. Because you pushed me to be the best homosexual I could be, remember? It’s the least I can do to start to repay you. It will give you a little time to figure out what’s next and keep the wolves from the door. I’m doing it for me too because I plan on being on this side of the door with you and I hate fucking wolves.”  
  
“I don’t like it.”  
  
“Did I ask you to like it?”  
  
Brian rolled away from him and pulled a pillow down from the head of the bed. Justin watched as he punched it into shape and put his head down.  
  
“I can take that as agreement?” Justin said.  
  
No answer.  
  
“Good…but you may have to reconsider the clothing budget,” Justin remarked, draping himself around Brian.  
  
Brian sighed, but there was a smile in his voice. “Well, with you here all the time, I guess those can become optional…partner.”  
  
  
 **When I’m losing my control,  
The city spins around.  
**  
 _“Shit, are you all right? Tell me you’re all right.”  
  
“I’m all right!”  
  
“You’re not all right.”  
  
“Then what the hell are you asking me for?”  
  
“So that I can tell you what a motherfucking piece of shit you are for not telling me. For shutting me out. For thinking that you could handle this on your own. And most of all, for thinking that I would leave you. Why would you think that? Because you had a ball removed? Because you’re no longer perfect? Well, believe me, Mr. Kinney, that is the least of your imperfections. And if I wanted to leave you, I’ve had better reasons, plenty of them.”  
  
“Maybe you should have.”  
  
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. But I thought we had a commitment, and I plan to stand by it. Now why don’t you get your ass back into bed, you son of a bitch, and eat some fucking chicken soup.”  
  
_Brian didn’t look good but Justin had done his homework, and he knew the prognosis was excellent. Of course he couldn’t get any specific medical information on Brian, but his research told him that when testicular cancer is caught early, the patient has an excellent chance of a full recovery. Radiation treatments might kick the shit out of Brian for the next few months, but Justin knew he would live and eventually life would get back to normal. Well…as normal as possible, considering he was dealing with Brian Kinney.  
  
Justin turned to retrieve the tray while Brian hobbled up the stairs. Following him into the bedroom, Justin noticed he hadn’t even had the energy to take his boots off; something so uncharacteristic for Brian that the sight of it confirmed just how horrible he must be feeling. Setting the tray on the nightstand, Justin bent down to help him.  
  
“Let’s take these off before you eat.”  
  
Justin tugged off Brian’s shoes and socks and folded the bottom of the comforter up and over his exposed feet.  
  
“This isn’t going to stay in, you know.” Brian deadpanned, glancing over at the soup with disgust.   
  
“Some of it might. You can’t just stop eating.” Justin held a spoonful up to Brian’s lips, cupping his other hand under it so as not to drip any on his shirt.  
  
Brian accepted it, silently, and then another, and another before he spoke up.  
  
“This sucks.”  
  
“The soup?” Justin questioned, “I’m sorry, did I add too much salt?”  
  
“No, not the soup. The fact that you’re here, doing this.”   
  
Justin didn’t respond. He remained silent so as not to take one more ounce of dignity from Brian. But he knew he had to be here; couldn’t stand to be anywhere else; would not be able to function knowing what Brian was going through. So, he simply held another spoonful of the steaming liquid to Brian’s lips and nodded slightly, encouraging him to take it.   
  
Brian complied and then turned away. He slouched down further on the mattress, turned to his right side and curled his body into the fetal position. Justin set the spoon on the tray and lowered himself onto the bed next to him. Propping his head up with his right hand, he used his left to comb through Brian’s hair and gently massage his scalp. Brian’s eyes were closed and he had a slight grimace on his face.  
  
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Justin asked softly.  
  
“Yeah,” Brian replied, “a functioning left nut.”  
  
“Show me.”  
  
Brian opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at Justin who was now undoing the buttons on Brian’s shirt.   
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“You’re not going to sleep in your work clothes, and you’re not going to hide this from me any longer.”   
  
They continued to lock eyes as Justin pushed the shirt off  Brian’s shoulders and pulled it off his arms. Next, Justin undid his own and tossed it to the floor as Brian watched quizzically. Turning to sit on the edge of the bed, Justin bent over to untie his shoes and kick them off. He then removed his socks, stood up and lowered his pants and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them. Naked, he crawled back onto the bed and wedged his knees between Brian’s legs. Leaning down, Justin kissed Brian softly on the lips while he reached down to undo his belt and zipper.   
  
Leaning back on his heels, Justin spoke softly, “Lift up a little bit so I can get these off.” Brian did and Justin gingerly removed his trousers. He folded them once and turned to lay them neatly on the chair behind them. Brian was wearing another pair of the gray briefs Justin had seen him in a week ago; the day he first heard Dr. Rabinowitz’s voice on the answering machine. It seemed like it had been years ago.   
  
“Show me,” Justin repeated. He said it as neither a question nor a command. It was just a simple statement, said as if he was asking for help with a math problem. Brian pulled his lips in and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and gently lowered his briefs. He raised his left leg to free them and Justin took over to pull them off the other.   
  
Placing his hand on the inside of Brian’s left thigh, Justin pushed outward on it tenderly and asked, “Can you spread your legs a little more?” Brian winced a bit, but what Justin saw before him was a welcome relief. Brian’s scrotum was noticeably swollen, he had been shaved rather closely and there was a little bruising extending out from a bandage on the lower portion of his left testicle. Justin bent low and kissed softly just above the cut.  
  
The sensation made Brian twitch, and he lifted his head abruptly. “Justin…I…I can’t,” he stammered.   
  
“I know that,” Justin assured him motioning down at his own flaccid penis. “Did you really think I was expecting sex? I just want you to know that this doesn’t change anything, Brian. I still want to lie next to you naked and feel you next to me. I love you…scars and all.” He glanced back up at Brian and noticed a little color had returned to his face.  
  
“Are you doin’ okay? “  
  
“Yeah.” Brian smiled slightly. “Deb’s secret recipe just might stick with me for a few hours.”  
  
Justin returned his smile and grabbed for the far corner of the comforter to throw over them. “Let’s get some rest before it makes a re-appearance.” Turning on his side, he spooned Brian, and ran his hand down from his hip to his knee. He continued to rub there until he felt Brian’s body relax and his breathing deepen. Just as Justin was beginning to doze off, Brian broke the silence with a sleepy drawl, “I have to do this for three months, you know.”  
  
“I’ll stay.”  
  
“The doctor says I should make a full recovery,”   
  
“You will.”  
  
“The radiation might render me sterile.”  
  
“Damn, and here I was hoping to get pregnant.”  
  
“If you really want to, we could always ask Mel for some sperm.”  
  
“Shut up and go to sleep.”  
  
  
 ** **You’ll be the only one  
Who knows, you slow it down. ****  
  
_“I’ll be back, and you’ll come there. We’re gonna see each other all the time.”  
  
“You don’t know that…and neither do I. Whether we see each other next weekend, or next month…never again, doesn’t matter. It’s only time.”  
  
Justin set down his drink and picked up the ring box Brian had left on the coffee table. Scrutinizing them he looked up and said, “You didn’t return them.”  
  
“I didn’t return them.”  
  
“We don’t need rings or vows to prove that we love each other, we already know that.”  
  
“You did it”.  
  
“Did what?”  
  
“Became…the best homosexual you could possibly be.”  
  
_The remark meant a lot to Justin. Brian could see it in the way he accepted it and got that self-satisfied smirk across his face. When he raised his head, Brian couldn’t help but smile too, and when Justin placed his hands on Brian’s shoulders, the urge to kiss him and be inside him one more time was all consuming.   
  
They’d discussed this earlier and said it wasn’t going to be this way. Well, actually, there was no discussion. Justin told him it wasn’t going to be this way. They would spend the day in bed, which they did, and end their lovemaking in a shower and would allow plenty of time for Justin to get to the airport. He insisted Brian was not to take him there because, in his words, “If I’m going to do this, I am going to do it all on my own. If you take me, we’ll end up fucking in the parking garage, I’ll miss my plane and you’ll pay for the new ticket.”  
  
Brian knew he was probably right.   
  
But Justin had calculated the timing wrong, and they still had well over an hour before his taxi was to arrive. Now Brian was afraid of where Justin, given this number of minutes to fill with words, could lead him. He pulled back from their kiss and snaked his hand up and under his partner's shirt to find no resistance. In a matter of seconds their clothes lay littered on the floor and they were kneeling, naked, on the sofa.  
  
Brian entered him there, first, but soon found a reason to wrap Justin’s legs around his waist and carry him to the bed. If this was the last time they would be fucking in the loft, they sure as hell were going to do it in comfort. He would send Justin to New York marked with his scent so that when he crawled into his new bed for the first time, Brian would be there too.   
  
The sex was slow, unrushed, and almost surrealistic. Justin surrendered himself completely to Brian, allowing the only person in the world that he trusted unconditionally to use his body however he wished. Brian responded by demonstrating to Justin, yet again, that he knew every touch his partner loved and responded to. Justin’s whole consciousness narrowed down to Brian’s hands and mouth and dick. His concentration was so complete that he startled Brian – and himself - when he climaxed and cried out.   
  
"Did I hurt you?" Brian questioned bending down and bringing Justin's face to his.  
  
"No," Justin smiled. "It's just," he hesitated, "a little intense, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," Brian agreed and turned to look at the clock on his nightstand. It came as no surprise that this last session barely filled a half hour. The anticipation of Justin’s departure was torture. Brian now knew the depth of sadness one must feel sending their loved ones off to war. Justin may not be heading into battle, but Brian felt his potential for loss could be just as great. He feared he could not look back into those blue eyes right now and not make a blithering fool of himself, so he kissed down Justin's chest and settled his head on the soft indentation just above his stomach.  
  
Immediately Justin's hand was on his head, combing through his hair with his fingers and rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
“You can keep that up for a week or two.”   
  
“And then I could just stay.”   
  
Brian distinctly heard Justin’s voice crack a little on that last word and noticed that his breathing had become shaky.  
  
"Justin.…”  
  
"I'm sorry,” came his whispered reply. Justin was trying his best to disguise it but it was obvious to Brian that he was crying. “I don’t want to do this."  
  
“Go to New York?” Brian asked, suddenly feeling both disappointed and elated.   
  
"No,” Justin let out an exasperated sigh, “I want to go, I really do. Just not like this.”  
  
“Oh, Jesus, Justin, it’s okay,” Brian reassured him. He had an arm draped over his torso and was rubbing circles on his hip. “It’s actually pretty sweet.”  
  
“It’s not sweet, Brian. You don't understand. It’s what you said before...it hurt so much."   
  
At this, Brian sat up abruptly and looked at Justin who was still on his back but propped up on his elbows now and shaking his head.  
  
Furrowing his brow, Brian asked, “What I said?”  
  
"Yeah, a month ago you finally told me you loved me. Then two weeks ago we were going to get married and now you say it doesn’t matter if we ever see each other again? What kind of bullshit is that?”  
  
Lying back down and putting his head on the pillow next to Justin, Brian considered his words carefully and spoke softly, “I’m sorry. I do love you, Justin. You gotta know that by now. But you’re starting an entirely new life and...” Brian paused.  
  
“And?” Justin echoed anxiously.  
  
“I’m not going to be a part of it so I don’t want you to feel obligated to me."  
  
"Not a part of it? Obligated?" Justin turned his head and asked incredulously.  
  
"Hey," Brian was squeezing his shoulder now, "I know what it's like to be young, single, and gay in a big city, Justin."   
  
Justin sniffed, squirmed out of Brian's grip and brought his hands to his eyes. They muffled his mouth but Brian was pretty sure he heard, "You stupid son-of-a-bitch," in there somewhere before Justin was rearing up over him.   
  
"You," Justin paused to give the word proper emphasis, "have no fucking idea. All you know is what it's like to be Brian Kinney in that situation. Believe it or not, there are thousands of gay men out there whose lives do not revolve around clubbing and tricking and the latest fall fashion line. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m one of them. I want a serious, committed relationship, and I’m mature enough to maintain one even when circumstances dictate that I’m temporarily separated from my partner by a lousy 400-some miles. And you know what? I thought I had one. But now I’m faced with either walking out of this door and putting that at risk, or staying and giving up a chance of a lifetime. Thanks a lot."   
  
Brian remained silent, figuring it was in his best interest at the moment. Justin was off the bed now, pounding down the stairs to the living room to retrieve his lost clothing and muttering to himself. Brian rose and stood in the bedroom doorway, arms extended to the jambs that framed it on each side and watched Justin scurrying about the loft. "Okay,” he murmured softly but still loud enough for Justin to hear.   
  
"What?" Justin's head popped out of the neck of his t-shirt and he spun around to look at Brian.  
  
"Okay...let's do it your way."   
  
Justin's face lit up with 'that' smile as he hurried over to the steps. Standing on the floor he was a full three feet shorter than Brian who towered above him.   
  
"You're right,” Brian said, looking down. “We are in a committed relationship, but that’s not a good enough reason for you to stay right now…I want you to go and experience everything New York has to offer so you will never have any regrets. Go...have fun and know I'll always be here, but don’t feel like we’re some married couple, because we’re not...yet. And we’re never going to be like fuckin’ straight people."  
  
This conversation was sounding oddly familiar to Justin. He rose one step and put his hands on Brian's bare hips. "We're not like my parents, right?"  
  
Brian smiled and nodded. "And we sure as hell aren't a pair of dykes marching down the aisle in matching Vera Wangs."  
  
Justin took another step up and continued, "We're queers and if we’re together, it’s because we wanna be and not because there are rings on our fingers. So if I’m in New York, assume I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing. I’m working. And, when I come home, which I will, quite often, I’ll also be doing exactly what I want to do. Coming home to you.”  
  
“Okay," Brian said playfully, "I want some things too." He turned now and picked up his wallet from the tray on his dresser. Justin took the last step up so they were on equal footing and watched Brian pull out one of his credit cards and hold it out to him. “You are to use this to come home whenever you want and no bitching about spending my money or how much it costs or the fact that you were just here last weekend. And no matter how badly you want to cut and run if things get tough, you will stay and give it your best for…" Brian paused and brought his hand to his chin, seriously considering just how long it may take for Justin to realize his dreams in New York, "three years.”  
  
“One,” Justin returned in protest.  
  
“Two," Brian responded. "And one more thing, you don’t kiss anyone else on the mouth, but me.”   
  
Justin leaned in and demonstrated his acceptance of Brian’s latest demand. He knew he could do far worse than kiss only these lips from now on.   



End file.
